Page 103 of Claimed By the Depths

“You didn’t tell her?” There was a pause before Syoran added, “Levitte, the man you are likely straddling nude, is the biggest pleasure bottom you will ever meet. Well… power too, I suppose.”

Biting my bottom lip, my gaze met Caspian’s as I answered, “I’m well aware. His whimpers are beautiful.”

“I fucking knew it!” Syoran shouted. “Kael!”

The drum of booted feet faded as he moved away from the door to hunt down the soon-to-be king. As his presence vanished, I cocked a brow at the breathtaking man who stared at me from where he belonged.

Beneath me.

“What is it, Caspian Vayne?”

“Great to see the two of you have hit it off,” he said, rubbing his hands over my stomach. “I mean, for you, of course. Certainly not for my sanity, considering the teasing will never stop.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize⁠—”

“Stop,” he breathed, thumbs ghosting over my waist. “There is no reason to apologize. Every godsdamned person on this ship is well aware of the man I am. I mean, hell, the entire continent might be as well, considering how fast word travels. Pirates never know how to shut their fucking mouths.”

His reassurance provided relief, and I smiled. “Ironic coming from one.”

“Yes, which is why I like mine stuffed. With cunt or cock, I’ve never had a preference.”

Choking on my saliva, the reply I uttered came out raspy. “Gods above.”

“What? Surprised?”

“No. I mean, not really,” I admitted. “I’ve just… I’ve never met a man so transparent, one so confident with his sexuality and fluidity between masculinity and femininity.”

His tongue swept over his bottom lip. “Oh, darling, you haven’t seen anything yet. When I’m clad in a skirt and corset, then we can talk. Maybe I’ll add a splash of kohl to really blow your mind.”

Gently swatting his chest, I fought the building temptation to rub my thighs against each other. The mental image of free-flowing fabric descending his thighs and rigid material cinching his waist was nearly enough to make me implode. But actually witnessing it?

May Elaros greet me with a gracious end.

“Thoughts busy?” Caspian teased, though a tinge of concern laced each syllable.

Brushing my hand over his muscled chest in a way I hope provided reassurance, I met his thoughtful gaze. “Yes, with the idea of you on your knees dressed so beautifully for me.”

His worry dissipated, that stunning smile returning tenfold. “It is an idea that I can⁠—“

Another knock infiltrated the space. “Hate to tell you two to get out of one another, depending on what’s currently happening,” Syoran started before adding, “but we are encroaching on Serevalen. We’re not far from the port, and I think… I think you guys may want to see this.”

“Give us a minute,” Caspian said, and then, without even looking at one another, both of us moved.

Hunting for the clothes I’d strewn throughout the room, curses tumbled from me as I slid into my trousers. I fiddled with the buttons before bending down to grab my top, but a hand stopped me in my tracks. Attention lifting, I found a nearly-clothed Caspian with his arm extended, one of his shirts dangling from it.

“Here,” he practically hummed, the corners of his mouth curling upward with what appeared to be a hint of bashfulness. “I’ve paid attention to the way you relax around me, specifically when I cradle you. And while we cannot linger here tangled with one another, I can at least provide something that will blanket you with my scent—something to aid in calming your nerves.”

I reached for his offering, the fabric's quality undoubtedly regal. “Cas, this is nice. I can wear something else⁠—”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” he interrupted. “I wish to see you wrapped in the finest silks and adorned with the most expensive jewels. Now, get dressed. In my shirt.”

Hiding my grin, I slipped the green material over my frame and tied its excess at my navel. Immediately, his smell greeted me, and I clung to every drop, memorizing its undertones and the faint scent of musk that lingered. He was addictive in a way I knew was dangerous, but there wasn’t an ounce of me that cared—not when I’d already had a taste, only for him to grant me far more.

Corset unnecessary due to my minimal assets, I turned, but the sight that welcomed me nearly forced me to my knees. Etched across Caspian’s bare back were seven letters, each nauseating me more than the last. Tendrils of black dripped from each inked line, further polluting his essence beyond what her bind had.

Branded.

Wrath clouded my senses, my desire for vengeance beyond anything I sought for myself. I would kill her. I would fucking butcher her, tear her limb from limb, and feast on the blood of those who so willingly devoted themselves to her. I didn’t give a fuck if they were human or bore the title of falsified divinity; they would all fall, and I would see to it that nothing else was accomplished before they did.